


Sit and Spin

by Ladylauralue



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 00:01:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5846050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladylauralue/pseuds/Ladylauralue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renaissance Faire AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Bailey was seven he wanted to be a knight and was, in fact, adamant about learning to become one. Cardboard wrapping paper tubes became swords and lances, bin lids became shields and nearly everything was a possible damsel in distress. Alexander Gold hand wished that he could have been an example of chivalry and bravery for his son, but the best he could manage was books and attending the local Renaissance Faire during the summer. A lawyer by education and a pawnbroker by trade, he did well enough to be able to set up a shop during the three week “Storybrooke Pleasure Faire” and let Bae have the run of the faire by the time he was ten. At fourteen he was a well known figure to the regular faire folk, as was he, the withdrawn and formidable father. Alex was happy that his son was making his own reputation for himself, separate from his father’s. Most of the members of the various guilds avoided his shop unless absolutely bored or they needed quality workmanship.

The shop they set up was one that sold yarns, string and small weavings. Trinkets for the most part, weaving was a skill he’d learned from some locals back home, one he utilized to be able to have something to do while Bae ran around having fun. The boy also was able to learn some responsibility with money when Alex had to run to a stall for lunch. Today, opening day, his ankle had been particularly irksome and so he had sent Bae off to get lunch –something neither on a stick, nor fried- and instead sorted inventory.

“Alright Astrid,” he heard a low feminine voice calling from the other side of his lean to set up “where too now?”

“Nova, call me Nova!” he heard a girl respond “I’m a fairy this week!” the outcry was followed by a giggle, and he saw two shadows coming around the side of the dark brown canvas.

He paused mid motion, yarn tangled around his arms and fingers, to watch the two shadows. Perhaps he could convince the fairy to buy yarn. He’d noticed most of the fantastically dressed girls wore “yarn falls”, and he’d been attempting to make some, though he thought the excessive use of yarn was a waste. Just as he was about to start winding again, he saw them appear. Though the fairy stood out with her glittery pink ensemble and sweet smile, his eyes were drawn to her companion, a rosy skinned girl with warm chocolate hair and bright blue eyes set off by her dress. She glanced at him, out of the corner of her eye and he glanced away, all thoughts of hawking his wares fleeing his mind.

“Here A-Nova. Let us inspect this weaver’s wares,” he swore he could feel the smile in her lilting voice more than he could hear it.

He hurried with his wrapping the skein of rich blue wool while simultaneously trying to greet the young ladies. “Good day, young missus” he said, his Scottish brogue clearly evident. He stood and waved a free arm wide with a flourish. “Welcome to my humble establishment. If there be anything you need, please ask.”

The woman in blue curtsied, and the pink fairy bowed, both grinning with delight. Were they new? He couldn’t recall, but he’d make a point to talk to his son. It sometimes seemed like everyone new Bae, and Bae knew everyone. “Thank you, good sir,” the one in blue said, her Australian accent coloring her words. He sat himself on his stool again, wincing as he leaned too much on his damaged ankle, and resumed winding again.

Trying to focus on the soft wool in his hands and not the girl in blue, it took him a few moments to realize she was standing before him, a look of curiosity and good humor sparkling in her eyes. “My Lady?” He’d gotten used to the Elizabethan speak, and even enjoyed the banter, but usually it was nothing more than an act to fit in, a part to play. Calling this woman “my lady” was more a request. He could easily see her in a court, made up and wrapped in fine fabric and laces. The dress she wore was well made, though most likely not custom, judging by the way the skirt fell flat against her hips instead of prodded up by padding or hoops. He almost missed her question in his scrutiny.

“I was wondering if I could purchase that yarn,” she said, gesturing to the bundle in his hands. To his silent gesturing she nodded “Yes, that one, along with this” she held out a rich yellow skein, unevenly dyed to give it a gold-ish look.

“As you wish, my Lady” he said, before realizing he wasn’t near his makeshift register. Before he could fish about for his walking stick the brunette in blue handed him a small stack of bills.

“Please, my name is Annabelle.” She said, her hand folding his over the bills. He was able to see that she’d given him the exact amount for his wares before he realized the young woman was leaving, turning around with a wave and a thank you. As he waved back, he noticed the thin green wristband she wore. If not a regular, she was at least planning on being here often. He could ask Bae what he knew about her when he returned.

^^^^^^

“So, what do you plan on making with the yarn?” Astrid asked, most of her attention on her friend and not walking.

Annabelle considered her purchases tucked into her satchel, but before she could answer, her friend collided with a solidly built body. Her startled gasp turned into a laugh when she saw her friend Leroy had planted himself in Astrid’s way and neither of them had noticed. Now Leroy, dressed as a peasant, had Astrid in a hug so tight she was struggling with laughing and getting her breath. “Leroy, put me down!” she heard her giggle. Ever the obedient boyfriend, he did as he was told, and as he did, he snuck a kiss along her well exposed neck. Too busy blushing, Astrid didn’t say anything for a few moments while Annabelle looked away.

“So, what are you girls up to today?” Leroy asked once his girlfriend was properly scandalized. Astrid was unable to make a coherent sentence, and so left it to Annabelle to inform him.

“Just wandering the shops before I’m due for the stage, investigating deals and wares.” She absentmindedly patted the leather bag holding her yarn. “Astr-Sorry, Nova has been considering setting up a quest for the children, but she hasn’t been able to think out all the details for one yet.”

“Nova?” Leroy tested the name. “I like it, it suits you.” He checked a watch hidden under his sleeve “Hey, sister, you better get going for set up, you’re on stage in twenty.”

Belle started at the time. Where had the morning gone? “Thank you Leroy! Will I see either of you at my show?”

The couple spared a glance for each other before Astrid answered “I’m going to try to see if I can get Ruby’s help on the quest, but we’ll make it for your afternoon show. Promise!”

Annabelle had a strong suspicion that at least half of their time between now and the War was going to be spent finding a cozy place to be together, but she didn’t mind. “Alright then, I’ll see you later!” she called over her shoulder as she took off towards her tent. She normally left her cloak and prop bag in her tent, but had gotten distracted enough to only have just enough time to run to the tent, straighten up her appearance and hastily walk to the stage.

Behind the curtain, she took a deep breath. She’d earned this, she knew what she was doing, but she still got butterflies in her stomach just before going on stage. She’d learned to turn the nervous energy into performance energy, she depended on that, but it was still daunting. She wanted to fit in here, to belong, but if people didn’t come to, or didn’t like her show, how long would it last? She heard herself announced and walked out; head held high and she curtsied to her audience with a flourish. She could do this. Children sat before her, and so she directed most of her attention to them, occasionally sparing glances for the parents and teens at the back. One glance landed near the back of the hay bale seating arrangement, and she saw the weaver she’d patronized earlier. He seemed enraptured, amazement on his face, and she smiled as she threw herself with renewed enthusiasm into the story. The nervousness changed to an excited thrill as her audience gasped and laughed in all the right places. She held them in the palm of her hand, but she paid closer attention to the man at the back, trying to solicit a reaction from him. She flitted about the stage, pantomiming some parts and becoming very still and quiet for others, all the while spinning her tale as though from air.

She ended her story with a flourish and a curtsey with much applause from the audience. The children before her begged for more, and she recognized her friend’s daughter Grace, sitting on an empty bale, a few other young teens with her. She began her next story, an eye on the man at the back “Once, long ago in the wild hills of Scotland lived three sisters”

^^^^^^

She moved on stage like a dream come to light, her arms gesturing and spinning, her voice crashing like waves on the sand. He was startled to hear the old tale from his old home, and impressed again by her performance. Nothing seemed out of her reach as she pulled cursed princes and plucky maids out of thin air and danced them around each other. No other player on stage with her, no set and only the occasional prop, this seemed to be as natural to her as breathing. Alex watched every move until she disappeared behind the faded, dusty curtain. He was surprised to see he’d been still for over half an hour.

He turned away, making the walk back to his shop methodically, his mind abuzz with the performance he’d seen. It had been chance that he’d seen Annabelle run past his shop twice, carrying a bag and donned in a cloak that billowed behind her as she ran. Bae had come back a few moments before, and Alex had tried to calmly ask if he knew the young woman as she dashed by a second time. He didn’t know much; just that she was new to the player’s guild, but not quite new to the faire, hung around with anyone, and was from Australia by birth, but moved around quite a lot.

He’d asked a surprised Bae to watch the stand while he went out, “for a walk” he’d said, which was absurd, with his son standing with food before him and his ankle aggravating him. But Bae nodded and got settled, setting in to eat the food he’d brought. Not one to let food go to waste, that boy. Blind luck was on his side when he spotted her again, her spring green cloak fluttering as she ascended the back steps of the small stage. Few seats were open, mostly in the front. He decided to lean against a convenient tree, ignoring a knot digging into his back as he settled in to watch. She had absolutely floored him, and he’d found himself thinking he was the one she was spinning the story for. Foolish thoughts for someone of his age and reputation to be thinking, he’d shook them off when she exited the stage, standing up and stretching his legs before walking back to his tent. Bae stood up with one of the guiltiest looks he’d ever seen on the lad and Alex saw the now empty plate that had contained both their meals.

“Sorry, dad!” Bae cried out, knocking over the stool he’d been sitting at. “It’s just, you took so long and I was really hungry and the food’s better hot anyway and-”

Alex laughed dryly and held up a hand. “Calm down Bae, it’s alright,” A rueful smile played around his lips as he eased himself into his chair. “You can go off now, I’ve got things here.”

When Bailey made no move to go, Alex turned to look at him. “What’s wrong, Bae?”

“Nothing dad. I’m off to see Morraine.” He turned to go, adjusting his belt and sheath. He called over his shoulder as he left “She and Henry and Grace and some other kids are checking out some of the activities!”

Alone, Alexander Gold let his mind wander back to the story teller and her beguiling smile. A small part of him he hardly noticed had started hoping he would see the young woman again.


	2. Chapter 2

Sun set and all the faire folk relaxed, sending the visitors on their way with a smile and “farewell”. Annabelle March was in her tent about to changing out of her clothes when her friend ducked in, ignoring the shrieks of protest. “We’re making a food run, any requests?” the leggy brunette asked, slouched over to avoid brushing the top of the tent. “We’re hitting up some fast food places, and making a grocery run.”

Throwing a look to her friend as she placed her hands on her hips doing her best to look intimidating with her bodice hardly undone, Annabelle nodded. “Who’s driving?” she asked as she ran her fingers through her hair, wincing at the snarls.

Ruby snorted at her friend’s caution. “David, he’s taking us,” she answered, rolling his eyes. “If he and Maggie haven’t started _com-shucking_.”

“Ugh, minus two points. Unnecessarily graphic about close friends.” Annabelle groaned, shrugging on a heavy jacket and pulling a tam over her tangled curls. “Though appropriately nerdy.”

Feigning outrage, Ruby gasped. “I’ve been saving that ever since we got to that episode,” turning to leave she had to duck again, but she ducked back in for a last retort. “It was worth at least three points.” In a twirl of brown locks she ran off before Annabelle could respond.

As she left her encampment she was bowled over by Henry and his band. She didn’t recognize the boy who tumbled atop of her. “Bailey? Annabelle! Are you guys ok?” Henry pulled his friend off the petite brunette “I’m so sorry Annabelle. Are you alright?” He reached a hand out to her, which she took gratefully and did his best to heft her up, nearly falling backwards himself. “Um, sorry about that Annabelle.”

Brushing her palms against her jeans and shook her head, realizing she’d lost her tam “I’m fine, I’m fine…” she couldn’t see the dark wool in the fading light. “Have you got a flashlight?” No matter how she turned she couldn’t see it.

“No, but I can go get one. Hang on!” Henry took off without a word, leaving a few other kids and Bailey behind. Bailey volunteered to  keep Annabelle company, and the waved the rest of them off. They stood there alone for a few minutes until in the distance Annabelle heard David calling out for her.

“Oh, dang it!” She had a few things she needed to get, and she hated driving out alone. “Um, Bailey? Do you mind if I run for groceries? I’m so sorry, it’s just—I need to get food for the next few days.”

She didn’t realize what a sweet smile Bailey had, undimmed by the twilight. “It’s no problem. I’ll look for it when Henry gets back.”

With rushed a “thank you” Annabelle ran off, meeting up with David at his car. They piled in, along with Abigail and Leroy, all still in garb and with lists in hand and money folded in notes. They all clambered for dominance in the conversation, before quieting down and sharing news and happenings.

“I happened to hear that many people were particularly impressed with a certain storyteller’s performance.” Abigail said in a conspirator’s stage whisper. “Some of the other guilds are wishing they’d heard of you sooner and snagged you for their own showcases.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “If any of them were royals, I would have turned them down flat.” She sank back into her seat and leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling. “I’d rather run around and interact with people than keep a mask on in front of people I can barely stand.”

Leroy chuckled darkly from shotgun. “You could always join the fairies, though you seem to have your feet a little firmer on the ground than most of them.”

Annabelle leaned forward to quirk an eyebrow at her friend. “And is Nova one of those flighty fairies?” she inquired, as everyone laughed kindly. It was well known that the gruff man had been almost instantly smitten by Astrid. She’d dragged him along to the faire last year, after dating for two months and he’d immediately thrown himself into a part to be able to stand by her side. The two seemed to be well matched opposites in demeanor, and many doubters had their own opinions (and the cruel ones had shared bets) about how long they would stay together. None of their close friends were surprised, and a few had happily collected their bets and sent the money on to the couple for an anonymous anniversary present.

“Oh, absolutely sister,” He responded.” Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

At the wheel, David joined the discussion. “Some of the knights were interested in getting to know you better,” he said with a hint of a tease. “I had to break it to them that you’re seeing someone out of state.”

“Oh, David,” Annabelle cooed “Always looking out for me.” Not all the guys in the fighter’s guild were bad guys, but on general principle she was extremely wary about who she dated. It seemed to be the exception rather than the norm at faire. “So, what’s on the menu at your camp?”

“Maggie’s working on some kind of stew, but she forgot a few things, so that’ll be simmering until we get back.” Abigail answered. “Leroy and Astrid have a fire pit, so we’re getting firewood, and then we have lists from the others.”

The brightly lit super market shone like a beacon. As the quartet clambered out of the car Annabelle smiled at the picture they made. Only Leroy had fully changed out of garb, but David had shucked most of his outer wear and was only in breeches, a low slung belt and loose undershirt. She and Abigail were still in full costume, though Abigail had been able put more planning into her ensemble. Red and gold flowed together in a stunning brocade trimmed with leather. They stood out as they walked down the aisles, but they both sort of liked it, and were too tired to care. They each grabbed a cart, more for the want of something to hold than the need of space. The lists Abigail had were rather short.

“How was it manning the sidelines today?” Belle asked her friend and she leaned her elbows against the handlebar. “I got caught up with the pirates, I didn’t have a chance to make it to the War.”

Abigail sighed appreciatively “Well, Fredrick and David have been working on the choreography, and it really shows.”  Being the leaders of their fighter’s guild, they prided themselves on knowledge and skill of Medieval and Renaissance Era fighting techniques. “Graham has his hands full with the Irish, I think he’s planning on poaching some of our boys.”

“And Emma? How’s she adjusting to all this?” Annabelle had only met the elusive Nolan sister a few times, and only knew that she’d acquiesced to come to the faire because of her son. She’d met him a fair number of times, and they’d had fun talking about their mutual interest in fantasy and science fiction; anything with heroes and adventure.

Abigail paused, considering the woman in question. “She seems very out of place,” she began, trying to be understanding. “She’d rather keep an eye on her son, which is understandable.”

“Maybe we could help include her?” Annabelle proposed as she grabbed several boxes of nutrition bars. I know she’s more into the real world, but if she had someone other than David and Maggie to talk to, she’ll feel more comfortable.”

Consulting her several lists, Abigail sorted cereal in her cart as she responded. “We could ask David what she’s interested in? She’s a cop,” Abigail gasped “We could see if Graham can reach out to her/”

“I don’t know, you really think so?” The two women turned down the dairy aisle when Annabelle spotted someone else in garb. As they approached, she recognized the weaver she’d seen twice earlier and she gasped softly. Abigail turned to her friend and, seeing her attention focused elsewhere, followed her gaze.

“Annabelle?” sly curiosity laced her tone as she scrutinized her friends expression. “Is everything alright?”

Mouth nearly agape, Annabelle took a moment to compose herself and to respond to her friend. “I just, I know that man,” she stumbled over thoughts and words. “He, um… he came to see my performance. Just after I bought yarn from him.”

Through the trials of friendship Abigail had learned to read her friend’s sentences as much for their words and tone as for the words she did not say. Her friend’s face was usually an open book, emotions almost as plain to read as print. The mixture of feelings she saw crossing over her friends face now gave her pause, and she became as intrigued by her friend, as her friend appeared to be by the man at the end of the aisle. “Well,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “we could go talk to him.”

Wide-eyed Annabelle shook her head. “I don’t want to seem creepy,” Her eyes flitted back and forth between the weaver and her friend.

Without another word, Abigail hooked her friends arm and pulled them closer. The gentleman finished with his own selection and turned toward them, to Annabelle’s displeasure. She heard Abigail gasp beside her, but before she could ask what was wrong her friend called out. “Why, Mr. Gold! Fancy meeting you here!”

Surprise flickered over his face, quickly smothered as he nodded and continued walking toward them. “Mrs. Jameson,” he acknowledged Abigail, but his eyes hardly strayed from Annabelle.

With a laugh Abigail gestured to her friend “So sorry. This is my friend Annabelle March”

“Hello Annabelle,” he said sly smile. “Pleasure to see you again.”

Abigail took over the introductions, feeling that Annabelle was feeling unsure of herself. “Mr. Gold does business with my father.”

A laugh burst from Annabelle’s lips suddenly. “Who doesn’t?” she asked, her question belying her surprise. Mr. Chrisos did business with well to do men of means. The humble weaver, still in a loose shirt and breeches didn’t go well with the usual business men she’d seen at her friend’s house.

Her laughter broke the unease between them and they made small talk, commenting on some of the events of the day, whether the Royals would meddle again this year, how to handle inappropriate patrons.  Mr. Gold seemed to bristle at that and Belle figured he felt somewhat protective for his business associate’s daughter. All too soon they heard David calling for them and they had to cut short their conversation. Annabelle finally had her Faire bravado back and felt like being a bit clever. “Fare you well, Master Weaver.”

“Spinner” he corrected. “I’m a spinner.”

“As am I” Annabelle said before turning away. She didn’t notice that his gaze followed her until she turned the corner, nor the renewed speculation of her friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely a slow work in progress. It's been years since I went to faire, and not all my memories are positive. Prompts and ideas are absolutely welcome. Anything to get the mojo working.


End file.
